


Petite Fille Solitaire

by cheering



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Human, Canon Gay Character, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humanstuck, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, its gay and its cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:31:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6781783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheering/pseuds/cheering
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of some girl persuading a little bit of color into a far too smelly city. Calliope couldn't be more willing to join her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Petite Fille Solitaire

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to half-decent writing hell

Calliope smiled into her book. She smiled, sharp teeth invading the grin as if they were unexpected yet welcome guests to a pearly-white party. And of course, this warranted a reason, a reason for such glee as to physically portray it on to one’s features. The motive, of course, was the daydream barging into her head with as much gusto as the strident incisors in her mouth. The afternoon was young, sunshine setting gently through a gaping window, bathing the drab grey walls in golden sunflowers and hopes for a good night. Hopes for a good night were overflowing from Calliope’s black-mopped head as if set to boil on the stove of imagination, her eyes only just keeping them restrained behind her skin. But some leaked in to her fingertips, dripping on to the blank page before her in ink and bright color. An image of a young girl formed in her mind, thus strewn across the page as if vomited by the mouth in her forehead, spilling on to the papyrus, propelled by the inaccuracy of accident. The illustration gained solidity. Physicality and detail were laid about in its depths, and it found itself blossoming into a drawing. Drawing was something Calliope had always found her pride in, grinning at sketches as they whispered reassurances and praise in her eager ears. Oh, what beautiful a thing artistry wrought! 

Calliope’s pen suddenly stopped, quivering in place as her eyes traced the paragraphs she had just crafted in her leather-bound almanac. She read each line with proper pacing; the flowery words studied and nitpicked. Was this really the best she could do? With a discouraged groan, she threw the hefty book to the side of the windowsill. Writing could be so difficult, especially on days like these. Her inspiration felt milked to the last drop. 

“Forget it!” 

Up she stood from her snug place on the windowsill, popping out her stiff muscles and trying to thoroughly inspect the dim room with all that her sight could offer. The space was all too familiar – plaster walls, a firm, nigh featureless bed, various objects of interest… A few less noticeable things were a bit nostalgic; Cobwebs. A few pieces of torn paper. A web of cracks receding from a little dent in the western wall. Our protagonist always had a keen eye for little things! She sighed with defeat and made quick work of locking the almanac. She had better things to do. The place felt unwanting of her presence. This was a space in which she had never felt comfort, and she knew perfectly well why. Soured memories ruined the bedroom so many years ago; she couldn’t recall a time she enjoyed the somber-looking cartons of ‘special’ stardust and Jujubes, the crusts of turkey-ham-beef-chicken sandwiches losing their character. The place was as close as you could get to a cell. 

Why was she put here? In a vast mansion, why was she given the same room as her rowdy brother? Perhaps, it was simple. Were things just not easy for her? Maybe. But, she didn’t like thinking about this place. Not about the things that happened inside. Not about the things that might, one particularly unlucky day. She walked out with a head held very low. It could’ve touched the floor. She felt like it should. And, so, she paced down green hallways. She clomped down staircases. She escaped, and found herself not needing to explain the null process in such detail. She tried not to think in the vast place. It only leads to bad experiences! 

She fled across a carpet, and froze up at a voice behind her. See? 

“And where are you headed off to?”   
Loud. 

“You’ll find it isn’t quite your business, at all. Leave me alone.” 

“You act like as if your home is. Some sort of jailhouse.” 

“With you here, I state the fact as true.” 

“When will you stop pathetically wallowing in your own disgusting sea of. Self pity?” 

“Shut up.” 

Not her best comeback. It would suffice. 

She walked out the vast oaken doors. The sun was offensively bright as she snuck her way out of the vast mansion of emerald walls. This did not hinder her. Out came her bicycle from the garage, along with it a hope for an adequate day outside. Things were always better outside. She strapped on a green helmet. She slipped on a pair of sunglass far too large for her young face. Nothing could stop her now, costumed in her supersuit and ready for whatever the world had to throw at her. Calliope English was invincible, invisible, and on her bike, suddenly leaving the property and feeling freed from imaginary binds. 

Sometimes, she liked to pretend she was an alien. Riding in her own foreign little alien car, a bit disturbed by the blocky vehicles she cruised along with through a thick monochromatic metropolis. But a comfortable alien still, happy with the broadening of her horizons. After all, these strange blocky vehicles were just as good as the inter-galactic two-wheeler! Or something stupid like that. It was a good way to distract herself from aching legs and factory fumes. She continued with the moving streets, tires bumping against asphalt. She barely felt it. 

She barely felt anything. But, that was ok. Calliope’s entire life felt like a reverie, and she was attuned to the detachedness. There wasn’t much to be clung to in a daydream. 

And thus, she continued from a red light, turning a sharp left and entering a more peaceful part of the city. The sector wasn’t remotely like the rest of such a cruddy, industrial town. It was laden with trees, for one! Lush green sprung like nobody’s business around here. Kids were always at the park near the Quick-e-Mart. Older ones usually hung around at the Red Tree near the bike racks. Some kids attended unofficial poetry slams by the abandoned Babies-R-Us parking lot, every week at 7 pm sharp - an hour before city curfew. This place, unofficially dubbed Prospit by some ancient gang of cool kids at least thirty billion years ago, was central station for all kids without other important distractions. This margin included most of the population. Calliope was a member of the population, and was eagerly biking towards the place bathed in familiarity. 

Rusted swing-sets creaked, bearing the weight of happy kiddies. Children were everywhere, buzzing through the park grounds like bees. After all, on such a humid day, the activity was only fitting. The little lady rolled up her tee shirt’s sleeves and rode slowly into the bike racks, pressing her feet to the ground in substitution for her broken brakes (a very, very long story involving an angry brother and a coat-hanger) shortly pressing down her kickstand with a little grunt. She wheeled the hunk of metal into its usual slot and locked up the chain, as well! This bike wasn’t getting stolen on her watch. It was her lifeline.

And, with that, Calliope strode towards the park bench. A pale green rucksack flopped by her side as she sat down, removing its contents and revealing a smaller bag from its depths. Inside? Heaps of sweets. But, not for herself! She was expecting someone, a very important missus she had never had the nerve to ask the name of. 

And, oh look! She seemed to be approaching. 

“Heyyyy!” In all her pink glory appeared the Person-Of-The-Year, platinum hair shining like pyrite in the summer sun. Her gait was one relaxed, but bouncy, as she made her way through the uneven patches of grass. And Calliope was ever so willing to reciprocate the greeting! “Good afternoon, lovely~!” She spoke the words as if it was tradition. (It was.) 

Her favorite kid took a happy seat beside her, bubblegum colors shining even brighter than her smile. An arm found its way around the raven-haired companion. “What precious loot d’ya got for us in here, mia camare?” She did not hesitate to peer into the grey paper bag. But, Calliope would not have it! She chuckled, closing the pouch’s gaping mouth. “Take a guess?” Miss Bubblegum’s brow knit in mystification, before trying at the contents. “Uh. Drugs.” She stated in mock-certainty. The little half-smile on her face gave away her playful intent, however! The helmet-bearer scoffed, swatting at the other girl’s forearm with a beam brighter than an LED. What a joker! “No! Something even more satisfying…” And, she revealed the contents, as if her friend didn’t know already. Wrappers crinkled. Candy! 

“Not too far off, huh!” The corners of the princess’ eyes crinkled as she carefully picked out a caramel, reaching to unwrap it. It was hard to uncover a sweet with your left arm around a dear friend’s shoulders! But, she managed, and Calliope picked out her own lolly. “A beautiful afternoon, no?” And it was. Everything felt gorgeous in her company. She didn’t feel very numb at all as she hummed in content, suckling at her cavity stick. The breeze blew at Roxy’s hair, a little tickling Calliope’s cheek, very far away. The afternoon sun was beginning to slowly descend, as it did in the late fall months. The temperature noticeably cooled. She was okay with this, for she had a friend wrapped around her. Preserving warmth. “Yeah. It always is.” She sighed, crossing her legs upon the park bench with a feeling of resignation. All is well in Prospit. The sun lowered still. “Aren’t you cold?” “Nah. I don’t get cold, usually.” “That sounds a little strange. Doesn’t everyone get chilly?” The maiden chuckled. “I guess I’m too hot, aw shit.”

“Hee hee! Be quiet, you.” Calliope nudged her shoulder into the other’s chest with a playful snicker. 

“Whaaaat? Just preaching the damn truth, you little Martian.” 

“We are the same height, my rogue.” 

“Sh. You have the voice of a little beany kid, ya know.” 

“That is ridiculous.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“Tis true.” Calliope countered. 

“If you’re ridiculous, I’m ridiculous, though.” 

“Isn’t that going back on your earlier jab?” 

“Oh, yeah. Darn it. I’m shit at this, man, this isn’t my area of expertise.” She sighed, watching the great big ball in the sky. 

“Then, what is your area of expertise?” 

“Oh, there’s tons, oh my gosh.” 

“Name one. For future reference.” 

“Uh… Wizards??? Fuckin love wizards.” 

Calliope looked up, a little chuckle escaping her throat like bubbles. 

“Wizards…?” 

And, of course, the bubblegum girl only nodded eagerly. “Yeah! You know. Magic guys. Pointy hats and hella beards!!” Calliope nodded dreamily, looking back at the sun. The sky had darkened a bit more, than change having gone unnoticed.   
“What do you like about wizards?”

“Uh… hm, I’d have to think real deep about that one. Probably, uh, the way they make shit happen out of, like, nothing, ya feel?” 

“…Yes. I feel.” 

The sun drooped below the horizon. The pair did not talk for a long time.

“…How do you feel, Callie?”

Calliope turned her head, blinking under her sunglasses; that was sort of an unusual question.

“Fine, now that you’re in my company!”

However, Roxy did not seem very satisfied. “That’s lame. Lame-io. Tell me how you really are.” The way she pronounced things was so strange! She talked so lax; it made Calliope want to curl up under her words and fall asleep. “And yet, there is nothing to tell, my love! Life is uninteresting. I take residence in a big green house, where nothing interesting ever happens inside.”

Now, this wasn’t exactly a lie. She did, in fact, live in a big green house. And, not much happened there at all! Besides Caliborn’s tantrum’s, life was quiet, cramped, and just as lonely as Calliope had known it to be. Even when he started hacking up blood into toilet tissue, she had never felt like it was such a disruption as to qualify it as ‘something.’

Once, she had made a list, trying to find what was wrong with him. She had a few ideas. Some had gloomier outlooks than others.

“Well, you know what? If there actually is anythin’ that happens in there, I want you to tell me about it. Alllll about it. Explain me on this shit like it’s nobody’s business.” Her friend concluded, her black painted lips in a stern frown. One day, Calliope might take her up on such an offer. 

“Yeah. Alright, I have no qualms against it.”

“Good.”

They did not talk for a few minutes, seconds ticking by like centuries. Calliope could almost hear the clock in her foyer tock to the beat.   
“… I do not even know your name, goodness.” Calliope chuckled incredulously, looking up at Roxy’s dark face. “How could I allow that to happen? You have done many things for me.”

“Psh. Like what??” The blonde questioned, rubbing her shoulder. Of course, the other girl took little time to answer. “Many, many things! You are the reason my pesky brother stopped coming here! I owe you tenfold.”

The blonde laughed! Her blackened lips stretched into a guffaw. “Oh, that counts??? Holy shit.”

“But, yo. I’m Roxy. And you’re Callie. So we’re Roxy and Callie. Callie and Roxy - Calliroxy, or whateva the shit. That’d be such a cool wizard name, Calliroxy, oh-ehm-gee.” 

…Roxy.

That was her name.

It felt good to think it, so she said it aloud. “Roxy. Roxy. That is a very pretty name, very fitting of you!” Oh, it was ecstasy to say it aloud, letting it roll off her tongue with nary a hesitation. Amazing. It felt so right! 

“Bitch, mine is nothin’ compared to ‘CALLIOPE’. Like, what the fuck, you got the Greek god shit, I don’t got nothin’ like that.” Roxy went on, waving her hands in gestures that fit her words. However, Calliope wouldn’t have it, even as the evening darkened! “That is a lie! My name is long and petty and boring. Roxy is fun! Carefree even, filled with wanderlust!!” She marveled, eyes twinkly behind the darkened lenses of her glasses. She had forgotten to remove them, now that they had no use.

“Oh, I’m not even gonna argue anymore, you’re too sweet and wonderful. Why’d you gotta be like that, man? I need a less perfect bffsy.”

However, the question was rhetorical and Calliope didn’t find a need to answer. Instead, she only laid her head upon Roxy’s warm shoulder and smiled faintly in comfort, mumbling something inaudible.

The sky darkened into a velvet purple. The highlights of the cars twinkled in bright contrast along the streets lining Prospit. All was well, Calliope ensured herself, forgetting about his brother, about her lonely green mansion, about everything except the loud poetry slam in the parking lot a few meters away and the way her best friend’s shirt chafed against her cheeks. She should be going home very soon; City curfew only extended another hour, and father wouldn’t be very pleased if he finally noticed her absence. However, it felt nigh unimaginable to let go now - Difficult, impossible, sinful, even. 

“Roxy, I believe the clock chimes against us.” She spoke, quietly, comfortably, but firmly. 

“Aw man, your probs right.”

The other girl visibly slumped in disappointment, furrowing her brow and angling her eyes to the girl on her shoulder. “One day, you’re gonna sleep over at my house, or something. It’ll be so great and fun. Confetti, margaritas, and so much crazy ass fun it’ll be wild. I’ll invite some of my other chums too. Like, this girl named Jane? She’s great, really good at cooking, sorta unhealthily so but whatevs!!” 

She half listened to the ramble, looking out to the street. “Yeah. Yes, let’s do that some time.” And, with that, she finally forced herself up, off the bench, and into a stance. “Only, not tonight! For, tonight, I must get home. If I were to stay over at your home on a whim, I’d have one hell of a problem when I return to my own!” Roxy solemnly, nodded, eyes squinted firmly. It was as if she took this as a challenge. 

“If you insist, Callie. I’ll be seein’ you on the flip side, yeah?”

“Don’t question it for a moment!”

“Hella. Hellacious. G’night, Callie, love you.”

“Goodnight, Roxy. Love you too.”

And, without another word, Calliope encased the princess in her arms for a few moment, grabbed her knapsack, and walked hesitantly away to the sound of police sirens and powerful voices coming from the Toys R Us.

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what u losers think down below


End file.
